LOGAN: Alliance of Shadows, Book 2

Steadfast Strength

A thick blanket of snow covered the ground outside, the pristine white surface glittering faintly under the pale grey sky. I sat on the window seat, my knees drawn to my chest, watching the large flakes drift lazily down in silence. Most of my days were spent this way—alone, gazing out at the quiet winter world until my friends dragged me out to play.

It was my second winter with the pack, but my first without Madre. The ache of her absence was still fresh, a hollow space that the passing days could not fill.

Since moving into my new room, I’d felt a strange and surreal calm that seemed to come directly from Izzy herself. Over the past few months, she’d gently reprimanded me countless times for calling her Luna. In her eyes, I was family now, especially with her aunt as my adoptive mother. Though the thought brought comfort, I still struggled to adjust to it. The shift in my reality was almost too large to grasp.

Yet, my instincts told me that protecting Izzy had become more than just a desire; it was a need. The scent of her blood, the rhythm of her heartbeat – each distinct and vivid – had etched itself into my awareness. The fact that I could sense these things frightened me more than I cared to admit.

Neil and I had grown a little closer, too. During one of our quiet conversations, he explained that I was dealing with something called childhood depression. His tone was gentle, but his words carried weight. He didn’t lecture or push – he simply implied that I should recognize and treasure the friends who stood by me during my darkest hours.

“They’re the ones who’ll always be there for you,” he had said, and the truth in his words settled deep in my heart.

My friends and I poured ourselves into the packhouse library, scouring every corner for answers. Maria, Paul, and I tackled every section whenever we had breaks from classes, while the others reached out to the older wolves, hoping to uncover anything. Despite all our efforts, no one knew a thing. Our search hit a dead end.

Determined not to give up, I started asking if I could visit the local library to dig deeper. But even there, I found nothing. Not a single mention of anyone with the name Valencia in the area’s records.

It didn’t make sense. If there were no Valencia’s here, then maybe the man was nothing more than a figment of my imagination. The thought unsettled me.

As I stood outside the packhouse, my gaze drifted to Maria and the others approaching. Their familiar faces brought a smile to mine. No matter how hopeless things seemed, they never gave up on me. Not once.

Like true friends, they stood by me through it all. They didn’t let me fall into what I’d started calling "the darkness" – that bad, sinking, lonely feeling that crept up on me on some days. Their presence was my lifeline, and I could feel my gratitude for them swell with every step they took closer.

Paul stood there, dripping wet from head to toe, his clothes clinging to him like a second skin. I didn’t need to ask what had happened—I had a strong feeling he’d crossed paths with Triple Trouble. Over the past few months, we’d come to understand just how Devon, Sam, and Wynn operated. They had perfected their three-pronged attack: splitting up, cornering their target, and ensuring there was no way out. If you saw one, the other two were never far behind.

Watching Paul, I couldn’t help but chuckle softly at the thought. At least he hadn’t ended up covered in mud this time.

Even so, there was a weight in my chest I couldn’t quite shake. I missed walking with my friends. Being with them used to feel effortless, like second nature. Now, it was different, and that difference made me think about Ember. I now understood how hard it must have been for her every time she saw the rest of us walking together.

There was a familiar knock on my door, and I knew immediately it was her. Grinning, I opened the door just in time for Ember to throw herself into my arms with a dramatic sigh.

Laughing, I smoothed her ringlets with one hand. “Hi to you, too, Em. Are you ready to go play?”

“Uh-huh, are you?” she replied, her tone bright and questioning.

I quickly schooled my expression, knowing frowning was a mistake. Sure enough, Ember glanced up at me, her little face already scrunched into an exaggerated scowl. Shaking her head, she said, “We told you, right?”

“Told me what?” I asked, feigning innocence. Of course, I knew exactly what she meant, but I couldn’t resist playing dumb.

Ember wasn’t fooled. Crossing her tiny arms over her chest, she leveled me with a glare worthy of her Maman, Aunt Eileen. Her foot tapped out a steady rhythm against the hardwood floor, her stance a miniature replica of her mother’s no-nonsense attitude. That little habit brought a flash of memory: Aunt Eileen visiting me after the funeral, one of the few people who genuinely seemed to worry about how I was doing.

Smiling to myself, I let out a heavy breath, nodding silently as Ember scolded me for thinking bad thoughts. She always seemed to just… know.

It had been only a few weeks ago that her mom came running to me, tears streaming down her face, pleading with me to help Ember. Her daughter was trapped in a vision, and desperation filled every word she spoke. That was the moment I learned the truth about my littlest friend—Ember was a Clairvoyant.

Understanding that changed everything. It explained why she was always the first to reach me on my bad days. It wasn’t just that she felt my pain; she saw things happening to me, often before they even occurred.

When I later asked her about the night Austin destroyed everything, her reaction said it all. She broke into sobs, confessing that she’d seen it in her dreams. She had been sneaking out to help me when I found her first. Her guilt and heartbreak were clear, but to me, it only reinforced what I already knew: Ember cared deeply in ways most couldn’t begin to understand.

Ember’s sharp voice cut through my thoughts. “Are we going to train today, Lo-Lo?”

Our training sessions were all about helping each other grow—becoming faster, stronger, more skilled. We knew each other’s moves and methods, adapting and pushing ourselves further every time.

We kept our training a secret, though. The adults believed we were too young, and we didn’t think the Alphas would approve of the obstacle course we’d built deep in the forest by the lake. But we knew we needed it—every hurdle and climb we’d set up was carefully designed to challenge us. It was our sanctuary, our space to learn and improve without restrictions.

“No, not today,” I groaned as Ember pouted, her determination unwavering as usual. “Jasper’s working on a new training routine.”

She didn’t seem convinced, and for a moment, I felt her disappointment radiating.

Paul, Maria, and I had spent hours debating who was faster—Ember or Devon. The answer was always the same, but the competition was too close to ignore. Devon consistently came out ahead, but Ember was never far behind, proving herself time and again as the second fastest among us.

Each of us had a role, a niche we naturally gravitated toward. Samuel was the mastermind behind our planning and building, always coming up with new ideas and figuring out how to make them happen. Heaven and Ember had a knack for first aid, diving into it with a focus that rivaled even the adults. Maria, on the other hand, leaned more toward engineering, her mind piecing together solutions with ease. Wynter? She’d earned the nickname Trouble for good reason—her talent for stirring the proverbial pot and testing patience was unmatched.

Then there were Jake and Paul, who excelled at Tracking and strategy, respectively. Their skills complemented each other perfectly, their insights guiding us when things got tough.

And me? I was the one they looked up to—the one offering kind words when things got hard or gentle admonishments when the bigger pack’s rules were bent a little too far. I was their Alpha. Humble, kind, and inclusive.

Their words, not mine.

We weren’t just a pack. We weren’t just friends. We were a team—a family. We pooled our ideas, praised each other’s strengths, and debated like equals. We gave our all for one another, and that’s how we liked it. That’s how it was meant to be.

I still couldn’t fully wrap my head around it. I’d always assumed that the eldest naturally took on the biggest role, but that wasn’t how it worked with my friends. They didn’t care about age—they focused on the traits they wanted their Alpha to have. And, somehow, I’d ended up checking all the boxes.

It was both humbling and terrifying that they knew me so well, saw things in me I often struggled to see in myself. But despite my fears, their unwavering belief in me became my anchor. Their light, their presence, brightened my life in ways I couldn’t have imagined, especially in the days after my Mami’s painful parting.

Rather than sitting alone at her funeral, I was surrounded by my playmates—my packmates. They sat close, their quiet sobs blending with the solemn atmosphere as the Head Omega recounted all the good Mami had done since returning to Shadow Storm.

Their unwavering presence was a lifeline, giving me the space to breathe through the grief and let it wash over me without drowning.